A Girl With Black Birds (A Girl and Her Flock)

The work stages a brooding nocturne where a young girl, rendered in quiet profile, becomes the lone pulse of human tenderness amid an encroaching congress of crows. Charcoal greys and bruised blues flatten the architecture into uneasy planes, while sharp vertical accents of red and electric blue puncture the haze like warning signals, turning ordinary fencing and rooftops into psychological barriers. The birds—perched, circling, and swarming—read as omens of collective anxiety, yet their rhythmic repetition also grants the scene a strange liturgical order, as if dread itself has become a daily ritual. Light is withheld and rationed, so that the smallest glints on feathers and skin feel hard-won—suggesting innocence not as refuge, but as a fragile insistence within a world darkening into myth.